


Cold

by shortredselfships



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Huddling For Warmth, Memory Loss, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22796911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortredselfships/pseuds/shortredselfships
Summary: Muriel is used to harsh, unsafe conditions, but because she is so small, Michaela is still rather vulnerable, even if she doesn’t seem to want anyone to know.
Relationships: Apprentice/Muriel (The Arcana)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Cold

Journeying to the South may not have been such a bad idea after all. After my collar and shackles came off, I feel… lighter, somehow. And speaking with Asra, Nadia and Julian, the latter whom I could probably do without seeing again, I think I am ready to move forward. She thinks I can, and Morga is… not really giving me much of a choice.

Hand to hand combat was… strange. She was energetic, ready to learn and eager to fight. Why? When I asked her how she knew to strike back against Vulgora, she simply gave me a look. Amused, yet a little bothered. Naturally, I won, but she is eager to take in Morga’s advice. She’s more… assassin like, going for weak spots to make our sparring session end quickly.

“‘If I didn’t know how to defend myself, that would slow us down. And I can’t stay cooped up in the shop just because I’m a fu- I’m female,’” she groused. Perhaps the hostile tone was unintentional, as she repeated the answer with a smile. She is rather short, even for the average person. And her small stature would make her a prime target for criminals. If Lucio didn’t like her magic or familiar so much, he would have no doubt bullied her and tossed her in the coliseum with me when he got bored of antagonizing her to the point where she snarled and tried to bite her attacker. 

It is late into the night when I hear it- muttering. Michaela muttering. Morga is sleeping- but I can tell when someone is forcing themselves to stay asleep and she is. She doesn’t want to deal with whatever is going on between us. Michaela sits up like a springboard, shuddering, clutching her cloak to her chest. I had never seen her like this- scarf barely hanging on, hair in disarray, her face so pale she might as well look like she had frozen to death. Her eyes lock on mine, and they’re wide and watery as she buries her face in my side. 

“…Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head, though I can feel her crying. I let her cry on me for a few more minutes then gently take her headscarf and redo it. “Is this okay?” My hands are by her cheeks, wet with tears. She nods, and I wipe them away, feeling the shivers, whether it’s because she’s cold or shaken by her dream, I can’t tell. I guide her into my lap, and color floods her cheeks. It’s… it’s really cute. She’s warmer now, but still very cold to the touch, especially her hands. Wrapping my cloak around us both, I feel her settle in. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why?”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not.” She looks up at me, eyes no longer wet. She looks so different without her glasses, and like she wants to protest. “You can… I wouldn’t mind if you rely on me more,” I murmured, careful not to speak too loudly.

“But I’m supposed to be stronger than this. It was just a bad dream.” I must not look too convinced. “I… feel like I’ve been through worse. So a nightmare shouldn’t matter.” She is not nearly as harsh with me as she is with herself right now. When I told myself that, that I deserved them for all I had done, she was quick to call me out on it, tell me and show me I deserve better. But from the looks of it, that isn’t what she needs right now. Not just a firm voice but an empathetic ear.

“You comforted me when I had them.”

“Your nightmares are legitimate. You went through something horrific. I can’t even remember what my childhood home looks like let alone if I even had one.” That much was true, though I know she had to have had a family or something. She was always too well kept to be orphaned. There’s so much about her she doesn’t remember that I do, though most of her personality seems intact. “I’m just an adult who had to remember how to be a person for the last three years and even then I can’t seem to get it right. Like I said, I’m supposed to be stronger than some bad dream.”

“You’re small, have cold hands and had to rely on books to survive here.” She juts her lower lip out in a pout. “Like I said, you’re soft. And… fancy.” She giggles a little, and my heart kind of stutters a bit as her smile grows large. Even in this moment where she is beating herself up, her smile is radiant, bright in the face of hurt.

“Muriel, be serious,” she takes a deep breath, and squints up at the sky. The lights flicker across her face, dancing and making her skin look different colors.

“I am being serious.” She chuckles quietly, the smile fading. I look up to watch them too. The lights look familiar, not dream-like as it was during my childhood, but as if I were reuniting with an old friend.

“It’s just hard.” I look back down at her, and she’s got half her face in my chest. “I know I’m not the only one missing memories, but I remember almost nothing from the first 22 years I’ve been alive. I have glimpses, feelings of deja vu but… I can’t truly relate to anyone. I don’t know who I am, or what kind of life I lived before.” I used to envy her, when Asra would show up and lament that she didn’t remember some inside joke between them, or a spell she taught him. What would it have been like, to start anew? To not have the weight of past mistakes constantly on me, literally and metaphorically? “But, I don’t know if I would want to know, especially if my past was painful.” That much was true too. “I dunno. Sorry if it doesn’t make much sense.”

I don’t say anything, but let her stay in my lap as long as she needs. I had nodded back off by the time she gets up, woken up by the feel of bitter cold from where she was sitting. I can’t say I miss the feeling, but it certainly was warmer with her here.

**Author's Note:**

> This is from my selfship archive redsbetabasket. I did not steal this work.


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